Down Time
by GirlDrinkDrunk
Summary: Follow-up story to 'Virgin Territory'. Dean and Sam are enjoying a few days off, and they only have eyes, and hands, and other parts of anatomy for each other.
1. Failed Attempt

Dean wakes to a dull aching in his shoulders. When he tries to move and can't, he opens his eyes wide and realises that his wrists are tied – no, cuffed – to the bed head. Looking frantically around the room for the culprit, he spots him in the bathroom. "Sam!"

Sam turns around and smiles. "Morning," he says, like there's nothing wrong with that picture.

"What the hell, man?! Get me out of these."

"All in good time, Dean."

"Now, Sam."

Sam walks into the room and sits at the side of the bed. "I got us some breakfast, and the coffee should still be hot. I'll uncuff one wrist, okay?"

"What's this all about?" He asks, watching Sam pick up the key from the table and unlocking his right wrist. "You finding new kinks in your sleep?" He flexes his wrist when it's free.

"I've got something to show you," is all the explanation Sam gives, placing Dean's food and coffee on the bedside table.

"You could've warned me; I'm sure I would've let you."

"Next time I will. Eat."

Dean looks at the food with a frown. "Sam, you put the food on the wrong side of the bed, dude."

"Grumpy much?" Sam says with a small smile. "Anyway, you can get to it. Look at the bed head. You can move the cuffs along from one side to the other. It's only cheap brass, but it'll hold you," he adds, before Dean can start scheming.

Dean gives in, temporarily, and makes his way to the other side of the bed, and the – surprisingly – good smelling coffee. "So, what's the charge, officer?" Dean asks.

Sam smiles. "No charge."

Dean takes a breath. Slowly losing what little patience he has, he says, "Sam, if you don't tell me why I'm cuffed to the bed, I swear I'll put you in these the first chance I get." Dean knows that Sam doesn't like the idea of being tied up, and Sam doesn't keep him waiting for his reaction.

Sam's smile dissolves. After a moment, he reaches for the key again and proceeds to unlock Dean's other wrist. He sits back on his bed without a word.

Dean rubs his wrist and sits up. "What's going on, Sam?"

"Nothing."

"Uh, come again?"

Looking up at Dean, he smiles. "It doesn't matter. It was a stupid idea." Getting to his feet, he walks into the bathroom and closes the door.

Dean sighs; he's _so_ not buying that smile. He ruined Sam's plans, whatever they were. He walks to the closed door and thinks about turning the handle. Instead, he talks to the door. "Come on, Sam, talk to me."

Sam opens the door a few seconds later and walks past Dean. "Nothing to talk about. Forget it," he says, trying for casual and, instead, coming off a little snarky. He picks up his coffee, shakes it, and is just about to put it down again when he's pushed off his feet and on to his bed, landing on his back. In the process, the coffee cup flies out of Sam's hand and drops between their beds, quickly creating another stain in the already questionable carpet.

Dean straddles Sam and pins his arms behind his head. "What were you planning, little brother?"

"Dean," Sam begins, but stops when he sees that Dean is serious. He sighs. "I won't try to tie you up again, okay?"

"It's not about me being tied up. I'm not against that. I'd like to know why, though." When he sees that Sam can't look him in the eye, he lowers his head and lightly mouths Sam's right ear lobe. "I'm sorry I ruined your plans," he says, softly.

"It's okay. I guess I need some more practice in seduction techniques," he adds, with the breath of a laugh.

Dean sits up and removes his hands from Sam's arms. "You do more than okay in that department; I think we're officially rabbits."

Sam chuckles, relaxing a little more.

"Seriously, man, tell me what you were gonna do."

Sam shakes his head. "Nah, it kinda loses something in the translation."

Dean is about to open his mouth to try again when he has another idea. He climbs off Sam and the bed and, taking one of the handcuffs still hanging on the bed head, clicks the cuff around his wrist until it locks, secure but not tight. Dean sits on his bed and looks at Sam.

Sam sits up. "Dean, the moment's gone, dude."

"Tell me, Sam."

Sam sighs, but Dean is trying, and he has to get points for that. "Okay, but telling you isn't exactly the same."

Dean pats the bed beside him. "I get it. Come here."

Sam gets up and sits on the edge of the bed and faces Dean. "Well, I was gonna give you another of your fantasies." He shrugs.

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Which one?"

Sam's voice grows quieter. "The one where you said you wanted to watch me jack myself off in front of you." He lowers his eyes, a little embarrassed.

Dean closes his eyes for a moment. "And I fucked that up? I am such a dumb ass! Jeez, Sammy, I'm so sorry," he says with feeling.

"It doesn't matter."

"It _does_ matter. And I'm probably not going to get another chance. I know what it means for you to do that for me, and I blew it." He shakes his head.

"I wasn't going to cuff you to start with, but I thought it might heighten the anticipation if you knew you couldn't touch me while I was doing it."

Dean reaches his free hand around Sam's neck and brings him in close. "I feel like such an idiot."

Sam leans back temporarily and proceeds to uncuff Dean again. He then wraps his arms around Dean and they hold on to each other for a moment. "It's really okay, Dean; you didn't know."

Dean kisses Sam's neck as he pulls back. "How can I make it up to you?"

Sam is about to say that he doesn't need to, when he stops himself. "I'll think of something," he says, instead, with a small but warm smile.


	2. Playing For Kinks

Two days later.

Dean gets out of the shower and finds the motel room empty. As he crosses the room to his bed, he sees a piece of paper on top of his clothes.

_At Pedro's. Come get me, hot stuff._

Dean smirks as he reads the note. "Well, well…Sammy wants to play," he says out loud. He deliberately takes his time dressing; he doesn't want to appear too anxious.

Ten minutes later, he reaches to pick up the car keys and stops. _Nah, it's less than half a mile_. The car keys are left on the table as he locks the door behind him.

Dean walks into Pedro's with Thin Lizzy playing on the jukebox. He makes his way to the bar and waits patiently to catch the bartender's eye.

Sam notices when Dean walks in but doesn't move. _He'll come and find me when he's ready._

"What can I get for you, sugar?" The bartender asks, automatically.

"Bottle of Corona." While he's waiting, he casually looks into the mirror behind the bar and checks out the layout of the place, as well as the clientele. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing, except Sam standing next to a pool table in the back room. _I wonder if he's hustling_.

"You here by yourself, hon?" The bartender asks, setting his beer in front of him.

"So far," he responds with a small smile, putting his money on the counter.

"Lookin' to change that?"

"Maybe, if the right someone catches my eye."

"Well, I get off at midnight, if you need some exercise," she says, playfully.

Dean smiles. "Sorry, sweetheart, but you're not carrying the right equipment."

She raises her eyebrows. "Yeah?" Looking him over, she adds, "Wouldn't have picked it. Too bad." Just then, she turns to answer a call from another patron at the other end of the bar.

Dean finishes his beer and orders two more.

"Have you found a contender?" She asks, popping both beer caps.

"Yeah, I think I have. The tall guy at the pool table."

She looks to the back room. "Nice choice. I was checking him out, myself, earlier. You think you're his type?"

Dean pretends to think about that. "Yeah, I'd say he swings both ways."

"How can you tell?"

"I can't explain it. Wish me luck," he says with a smile, picking up both bottles.

"Luck, sugar," she says, smiling.

Dean walks across the empty dance floor and up the three steps to the back room. He rests the beers on a table against the wall and takes off his jacket. Sitting on the nearby stool, he watches the game. After a few minutes, Dean can see that Sam is deliberately playing sucky, and notices that there are two fifties sitting on the rail. He decides to watch and wait to see if Sam will up the ante for the next game.

Five minutes later, Sam's opponent wins, and pockets the cash.

"How 'bout one more?" Sam asks him, his speech deliberately relaxed, and pulls out his wallet, and a one hundred dollar bill. "Oh, what the hell," he says, pulling out another bill. Two Ben Franklins."

Dean hides a smile as he realises that Sam is pretending to be a little worse for the drink. _Just don't overplay it, Sammy boy_.

"I dunno," the other man says.

"Come on, man, if I don't get that fifty back, I'm gonna get my ass handed to me when I get home."

The other man relaxes a little. "Your woman got you on a tight leash?"

"You could say that." Sam leans on the upturned cue, blinking owlishly for a moment, and reels his opponent in.

"Alright, one more game. I could use another two hundred dollars." He smiles, confident.

_Nicely done, little brother_.

"Awesome. I'll rack 'em, and you can break. Unless you wanna…?"

"No, that's fine, I'll break."

Sam's opponent turns around to retrieve his beer from the table behind him. Sam takes that moment to look up at Dean and flash him a cocky smile.

Dean shakes his head but can't help but smile in return when Sam makes a kissy face at him.

Sam rearranges his features quickly as the man turns back to the pool table, and Sam makes a show of positioning the balls in the frame, fumbling two in the process.

Less than ten minutes later, the game is over, and Sam is up a hundred and fifty dollars.

Apart from a muttered '_shit_', the other man doesn't say a word as he rests his cue against one of the stools and walks out of the back room. Sam knows better than to provoke a man who's just lost that kind of cash, and he remains silent.

"One of those mine?" He asks, motioning his head to the beer bottles.

"Yeah." Dean watches Sam take the beer and drink. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

Sam lowers the bottle. "Yeah."

"Well, you did well."

Moving in front of Dean, he leans in slightly. "I learnt from the best."

"Damn straight."

"Wanna play?"

Dean smirks at the clear double meaning. "Oh yeah."

Sam puts his beer on the table and gives his cue to Dean. "Here. Wrap your fingers around this and I'll use the other one."

Dean smiles as Sam reaches for the other cue. "I'll be back in a minute."

Sam turns as Dean disappears down the steps and across to the bar. A minute later, he returns with a bottle of Jack and two glasses. Leaning against the pool table, with the cue held between his legs, Sam smiles. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"And what if I am?" Dean asks, pouring a shot for both of them.

Sam grins as he takes the glass. "If you _are_, it'll probably work." With that, he throws his head back and quickly downs the shot.

Dean lowers his voice. "Then don't fight it, lover." He takes a drink.

Sam puts his glass back on the table, brushing past Dean as he does so. "Lover?" He says, close to Dean's ear.

"Well, that's what you are. My lover."

Sam's grin is back in place. "So, you're trying to get me drunk _and_ seduce me?"

"Can't take it?" Dean challenges, moving around the end of the pool table to reach for the triangle.

"I can take whatever you give me…baby."

Dean gives him a cheeky smirk. "Okay, how 'bout we make this interesting." He collects and sets the balls.

Sam looks up as he chalks the cue. "What do you have in mind?"

"How 'bout…hmm…the loser has to fulfil the winner's fantasies and kinks for a day."

Sam smiles. "Sounds like a win-win situation to me. Are there any rules?"

"Yeah, Winchester rules."

"In other words, no rules. You're on."

"Whatever the winner says, Sammy; just remember that."

"Ha. You think you're gonna win. "

Dean smiles smugly as he returns to the side table to pour two more drinks. "I'll even let you break."

"If you insist." Sam looks at the table. Lightly blowing off the excess chalk, he sets his shot and breaks. As a result, Dean has to wait three shots (and one shot of Jack) before he can get to the table. "Okay, baby brother," he says, emptying his glass, "watch and learn."

Sam leans over Dean's left side (the cue side is suicide) and deliberately tries to distract him. "I'm watching real close," he says softly.

Dean smirks. "No touching."

"Uh-uh, no rules, remember? You're fair game." He proves the point by nipping at Dean's ear lobe and sucking it into his mouth.

When Sam pulls away, Dean takes a deep breath – and another – and takes his shot. "Damn!"

Sam smiles and walks past him, following the white.

Dean doesn't move from his spot when he realises that Sam has moved opposite him, across the table. When Sam leans down to line up his target, Dean reaches down and palms his crotch, knowing he is in Sam's direct line of sight.

Sam looks up at him and smiles, trying to convey an it's-not-working attitude; until Dean cups himself slowly, and repositions himself, brazenly. Suddenly, Sam's pretext is abandoned. Stepping back from the table, Sam turns to pick up his glass, downing the contents quickly. He can't see the smile from his brother. When he turns back to the table, he focuses completely on the balls on the table (rather than the ones in Dean's hand) and sinks his shot. Unfortunately, that creates a near-impossible set-up for Sam, and he has to bank the white and hope he has calculated correctly. He manages to hit his ball first but that, in turn, results in him sinking one of Dean's.

"Thank you, Sammy," Dean says, cheerily. Pushing up his sleeves, he studies the position of the balls and chooses his best candidate. Just as his fingers bracket the cue, Sam speaks.

"So, what have you got planned for me _if_ you win?" He asks, casually, sitting on a stool next to their glasses.

Dean smiles and he looks up without changing his stance. "I've got a couple of things in mind," he assures Sam.

"Gonna give me a hint?"

Dean delays his shot to think about it. "Nope," he says, finally, smirking at Sam. He then looks down to the table and takes his shot. Sinking his ball, he makes his way to the other side of the table, and quickly pockets the next ball.

Sam follows the white until it comes to a complete stop, and then smiles. "You've just about snookered yourself."

"Almost, but not quite," Dean answers, leaning over the table so his whole torso is stretched across both the rail and the felt.

"Dude, you have to bank the ball off two rails to even hit your nearest ball. Not that I'm complaining," he adds, admiring how the denim moulds subtly but perfectly to Dean's ass; not to mention how his top rides up just enough to expose an inch of lightly tanned skin above his belt.

Dean looks back over his shoulder and smirks. "Perv."

"Guilty as charged," Sam admits, freely.

Dean turns back to the job at hand. "Get your eyes off my ass for a second and watch the table." A few seconds later, Dean takes his shot, and they both watch the path of the white. It banks once off the end rail at an angle, rebounds at the same angle, banks again, and travels over half way down the table, where it connects lightly with Dean's solid. Dean stands and leans on his cue. "Your shot," he says, smiling.

Sam shakes his head. "Stop your smirking; you didn't sink it."

"No, but I didn't foul it, either. Take your shot, little brother." While Sam takes his shot – which can't possibly result in a pocket – Dean refills their glasses. As soon as Sam steps back from the table, Dean hands him the glass. Before Sam can take a drink, Dean clinks their glasses together. "Here's to pushing you out of your comfort zone for the next twenty-four hours." He gives Sam a cheeky wiggle of his eyebrows and downs the shot.

Sam drains his glass. "You know, if you keep filling up my glass, I'm not gonna be much good for anything for the next twenty-four hours."

"Hmm…you have a point there," Dean says, taking the glass from Sam's hands. "No more, for either of us." A smile suddenly appears on Dean's face. "I've got two words for you: body shots. This bottle is coming home with us."

Sam chuckles. "You're up, Fast Eddie."

Turning back to the table, Dean visually sets up his next shot. Leaning down to the rail, he strokes the cue back and forth, before gently striking the white, which then nudges his ball into the corner pocket. His next shot sees his ball rebound off both corners of the pocket without sinking. Dean sighs and stands up. As Sam moves to the other side of the table, Dean follows him with his eyes. "You got anything planned if you win?" Dean asks, with a smile in his eyes.

Still looking at the felt, Sam replies, "Yeah, there's one thing, particularly, that I want. The rest I'll work out later."

"Such as?"

Sam still doesn't look up, but smiles. "I'll tell you if I win."

Dean leans his cue against the wall and walks around to Sam as he is lining up his shot, stepping up to his left side. Leaning over and speaking softly into Sam's ear, he says, "Come on, little brother, gimme a taste of what you want to do to me." As an extra incentive, Dean stands up and rocks his crotch up against Sam's thigh.

"Dean," Sam says, suddenly a little breathless. He rests his cue on the rail and stands to face Dean.

Dean doesn't back off when he hears Sam's soft plea. In fact, he slides his hands around Sam's hips and pushes them into the back pockets of Sam's jeans, cupping his ass. "Can we finish the game quickly, Sammy? I can think of a better game to play, back at the motel." With one last squeeze of Sam's cheeks, Dean removes his hands and steps back.

Sam looks from Dean to the table and knows he's gonna regret this…

He reaches for the cue, gets in position, and pockets the eight ball.

Dean smiles wickedly. "That's my horny brother. Thanks, Sam," he says, leaning in to kiss him. "Of course," he says, turning to retrieve his jacket and the bottle, "that means that your ass is mine until midnight tomorrow." He seals his comment with a smug smile.

Sam picks up his jacket and puts it on. Unwilling to relinquish _all_ control, he chooses a little bravado. "Well, are you gonna talk about it, or show me?"

Dean chuckles. "Just waiting on you, bro."

Walking down the steps and across the still-empty dance floor, Dean walks around Sam and stops him. "Hang on; you said before, if you won, you had something in mind that you wanted. Tell me what it was."

Sam looks at him. "But I didn't win, so I'll just keep it to myself. For next time," he adds, with a small smile.

"Oh, come on, Sam. I'm curious. Sammy," he says, encouragingly, adding a playful tone.

With a sigh, Sam beckons Dean closer. When Dean obliges, Sam whispers in his ear. "If I won, I was going to ask you for one thing before we left the bar."

Dean leans back a little and raises his eyebrows in question.

Sam leans in. "I was going to get you to kiss me in full view of everyone in here. A real kiss. And a little groping would've been a bonus." He leans back with a smile on his face to gauge Dean's reaction.

Dean looks at Sam, eyebrows still raised, and gives in to the sly smile threatening the corners of his mouth. "So, does this public-display-of-affection kink include public sex?" Dean asks, voicing his natural one-track mind.

Sam actually thinks about it. "I don't think so; but if we're driving past a truck one day and I choose that time to give you a hand job, you'll probably have your answer." It's Sam's turn to smile smugly.

Dean laughs and turns towards the door, his breathing turning shallow as his cock reacts to that image. Sam follows, unaware. On the way, Dean stops at the bar and orders another bottle of Jack, to go.

"Looks like you got your man, sugar," the bartender says, setting the bottle on the counter.

"Sure did," Dean responds, putting their original - and nearly empty - bottle on the counter and handing over the money. To prove his point, Dean turns, pulls Sam towards him by his shirt, and kisses him sensually.

Sam is surprised but recovers quickly. He knows how skittish Dean is with public displays of affection, so he immediately recognises and accepts this gift from him, and goes with it.

Dean moves his right hand to the back of Sam's neck, deepening the kiss, and hears Sam's involuntary moan. That spurs Dean on, and his left hand slides its way round to Sam's lower back, moving slowly down until he has a firm grip of one cheek.

Sam's right hand on Dean's neck brings his lips impossibly closer, but it's over way too soon. Sam's other hand is prevented from its own exploration when Dean comes up for air. With one final kiss, they pull back enough to look at each other. Sam sees the smirk on Dean's face, which he mirrors a second later. Reluctantly stepping away from each other, Dean turns to the bartender to take both bottles.

"Sugar, if you didn't come up for air when you did, I was thinking of calling the fire brigade, 'cause damn that's hot! You two didn't just meet tonight, did you."

Dean smiles. "No."

"Figured. You've got some wicked chemistry."

Sam comes to stand directly behind Dean and whispers in his ear. "Motel. Now."

Dean smiles. "Gotta be going; it's his bed time," he says, tilting his head to Sam.

Smiling at the bartender's laugh, they both turn and walk out into the cold night air.

Given the deserted look of the road, they start walking part way in the oncoming lane, rather than on the swampy shoulder. The streetlights, set about a hundred yards apart, add to the deserted atmosphere.

Sam deliberately bumps into Dean's shoulder. "Thanks," he says, looking at the road ahead.

"You're welcome, Sammy," Dean answers, affectionately. "Actually, I should thank you for it; it was…I dunno, exciting."

Sam smiles. "Yeah, it was." Grabbing the nearly empty bottle from Dean, he unscrews the cap, takes a long drink, and drains it completely.

Dean watches him drink. "Bet you can't hit that tree trunk with the bottle."

Sam follows Dean's line of sight to the tree on the other side of the road. He judges the distance, stops, changes his grip on the neck, takes aim, and they both watch as the bottle flies end over end before exploding against the trunk. He turns to Dean with a smile. "What do I win?"

Dean returns the smile. "You'll see."

They are silent for the next hundred yards before Sam speaks. With a growing smirk, he says, "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

Dean chuckles and looks down at the road as they continue to walk. "Confess your sins, my son," he says gravely.

"Well, tonight I drank to excess, I cheated a man out of a hundred and fifty dollars, and not only do I continually have sexual thoughts about my brother, but I also act them out. And I love it. I love how he knows that a kiss to the back of my neck gets me hard in two seconds flat. I love how he can turn his fantasy into my fantasy."

Dean doesn't know why Sam's words have him stopping in the middle of the road to turn and look at his brother; he only knows he wants to hear more.

Sam stops when Dean does but continues speaking. "I love it when I make him speechless," he says with a smile, "which hardly ever happens. I love his voice first thing in the morning: deep and thick and sexy. I love that I'm the only one who sees through his layers to the man underneath. And I love _him_."

Dean stares at Sam, completely blown away by his words. Finally, stepping back into the familiar, he says, "I should get you drunk more often."

Sam gives him a shy smile.

Dean bridges the gap between them and kisses Sam slowly. Like the start of a grass fire, the flame catches quickly and burns through them, their kiss progressing to passionate and wet but also deep and slow. Dean is the first to break away. Both brothers continue to stand in the middle of the road, directly lit by the overhead streetlight, breathing heavily, and trailing their hands down each others bodies.

Without stepping out of that intimate space, Sam's right hand moves down Dean's left arm and grasps his hand. "I love you, Dean." He then hastily adds, "If you come back with a wise ass comment, I will put you down on this wet road."

Dean squeezes Sam's hand and smiles. "It's the middle of the night on a dark, quiet road; no witnesses. No danger of being overheard. Plus, I don't need to shout it, so long as you know. I love you, Sam."

Sam gives Dean a sexy smile before kissing him softly and quickly. "I think we should get back to the motel before we're arrested for public indecency."

Dean answers Sam's smile with one of his own. "I think if that was gonna happen, we'd have been arrested in the bar. But I like how your mind works."


	3. Pay Up

"Dean! Stop!" Sam gasps, trying to squirm away from Dean's insistent hands.

"You need to be punished, Sammy, and tickling has always been your kryptonite."

"It was an accident!" He says, defending himself both verbally and physically.

"Doesn't matter. Number 93 in the Winchester rule book: if you drench your brother by pushing him under an overflowing gutter, you get punished."

"I didn't…Dean!…I didn't mean to. Cut it out."

Dean doesn't relent; instead, he reaches his hand behind Sam's neck and squeezes.

Sam makes a decidedly girly squeak, hunches his shoulders, and tries to turn away. When Dean's hand returns to his most ticklish spot – his waist – Sam laughs uncontrollably and slides down the motel room door, trying to catch his breath. "Dean, please! I'm sorry, okay?"

Dean follows Sam's path down the door and kneels in front of his giggling, twenty-five year old, six-foot-four brother. "You realise you look like a giant twelve year old when you giggle, right?"

"So stop already!"

"I still have to punish you, Sammy boy," he says, taking his hands away.

Sam takes calming breaths as he looks at Dean. "Well," he says, softly, "there _are_ other ways of doing it."

Dean looks at him, considering. After a moment, Dean flashes Sam a knowing smile. "Does Sammy have a kink he hasn't told his big brother about? Hmmm?"

Sam looks down, shy. "Maybe."

"You said you didn't have any kinks. You're a big, fat liar. Why didn't you say?"

"I don't know. Embarrassment, maybe?"

"Well, whatever. Time to spill. What other kinks do you have?"

"Can we take this inside? I'd like to get warm."

With only a second's hesitation, Dean stands, and holds out his hand to help Sam to his feet. He opens the door and tosses the key on the nearby table. When he gets to the bed, Dean stands the pillow up against the wall, sits down on the bed, and crosses his legs.

Sam looks at him. "You're wet, and you're getting the bed wet."

"Yeah, no thanks to you. Looks like I'll be sleeping with you, tonight," he says with a smirk. He motions for Sam to sit on the bed in front of him. "And don't think you can change the subject. Out with it, Kinky Tuscadero." Seeing Sam's reluctance, he adds, "You know two of my kinks."

Sam sits on the bed. "Okay, but if you laugh…"

"Promise I won't."

Sam looks up at the wall behind the beds, rather than at Dean's expectant face. "I, er, found out in college that I liked…"

When Sam stops, Dean tries again. "Come on, Sam. Do you think it was easy for me to tell you I like the idea of being rimmed?"

Sam smiles. "No. Okay. Ilikebeingspanked," he fires out before he cringes, waiting for the reaction.

Dean is silent long enough that Sam opens his eyes to look at him.

"Well? What's your smart ass come back?"

Dean's smile starts very gradual, and then blossoms into a full-fledged smirk. "You know, you're not as vanilla as I thought you were."

Sam smiles awkwardly, both embarrassed and stupidly pleased at Dean's statement. "You're…okay with that?"

"Do you see me running?" Using a finger to beckon him, Dean waits until Sam leans close before enlisting his best seductive voice to softly ask, "Do you need to be punished, Sam?" Dean leans back to watch Sam's reaction.

Sam blinks very slowly as his breath hitches. Not trusting his own voice, he nods, instead.

"I just made you hard, didn't I," Dean says, slowly.

Reluctantly, Sam nods. "Yes."

"Good. I love that I can do that to you. Now, undo your jeans."

Sam's breathing suddenly gets shallower. There is no need to think about Dean's request, essentially because it wasn't a request, it was a softly spoken command. Slowly, Sam's fingers undo his belt and each button. He then rests his hands on his thighs, waiting for further instructions.

Dean can see in that action that Sam has adopted a submissive role; he is letting Dean call the shots. _Damn, that's fuckin' hot!_ Dean thinks, and little Dean agrees. "Okay, Sam, you know what to do."

Sam nods but doesn't immediately move. "Are you sure about this, Dean? You don't have to."

"You trying to weasel your way out of it?" Dean asks.

"No, it's just…"

Dean leans forward and whispers in Sam's ear. "Sam, did you like licking my ass?"

He is surprised into silence for a second. His dick, in fact, reacts quicker than his mouth to those beautifully dirty words. "Yes," he finally says, smiling at his admission. "I liked it a lot."

Dean sits back against the wall. "Then lie down over my lap so I can give you one of your kinks…and punish you at the same time. Oh, and take off your shirt," Dean adds, with a smile.

Sam gives him a lopsided smile. "I thought we were going to focus on _your_ kinks, not _mine_."

"Well, it just so happens that watching my brother get off on one of his kinks is a kink of _mine_. Don't worry, we'll focus on me after."

Without any further hesitation, Sam complies with Dean's request, removing his shirt before he manoeuvres himself – face down – over Dean's thighs. Almost immediately, he feels one of Dean's hands as it rests on his shoulders, caressing soft skin, while his other hand slides down his back, moving from warm skin to worn denim. When Dean's hand reaches his ass, Sam prepares for the smack, but it's not forthcoming. He waits, patiently, as the hand roams over the curve of his buttocks and squeezes firm flesh and firmer muscles. Still moving, Sam feels fingers tracing the seam of his jeans down, delving between his legs and putting a little pressure behind his balls. "Mmmm…," he moans softly, and attempts to lift his hips slightly to increase the feeling.

Dean suddenly brings his hand down, smacking Sam's ass firmly, and Sam reacts with a surprised grunt. "Uh-uh; no moving until I give you permission."

Sam tries to relax against Dean's body, and waits, trying to control the fine tremor of desire that that smack has awoken.

Dean feels Sam's capitulation and caresses his buttocks again. The second smack finds the other cheek, and Dean is rewarded with another, softer grunt, but no other movement. "Good boy, Sammy." Now that Sam has accepted the rules, Dean wants to take it to the next stage. "Sam, get naked. Now."

Sam lifts up and crawls off the bed, pushing his jeans and boxers to his ankles, and stepping out of them. Standing at the side of the bed, naked, with a fully dressed Dean watching him, he feels every bit as vulnerable as he did over Dean's lap.

Dean pats his thigh and Sam reacts, slowly climbing back on the bed and over his thighs. Watching Sam's hardening cock bob with his movements, as well as having his brother so naked and submissive, encourages all of Dean's remaining blood to rush downstairs. As Sam positions himself again, Dean bites back a moan; the sight before him is…_well, it's intimate and erotic_. _That Sammy trusts me enough to show this side of him is powerfully sexy, as well as humbling_. He smiles suddenly, realising that he wants to reward Sam for giving him this, not punish him for something as stupid as an accident. Dean's hands move their way over Sam's naked body, revelling in the ridges and dips and plains of his back and ass. He can feel Sam's hardness pressed against his thigh, and decides that a little reward won't make him look too soft. "Okay, Sam, I give you permission to move a little, if you want to, when you feel my hand."

Sam just nods, and waits.

Seconds later, Dean lifts his hand and brings it down on the fleshy part of his ass; firm without being too heavy-handed, testing Sam's reaction.

Sam grunts and closes his eyes, eagerly awaiting the next one.

Dean quickly finds a rhythm, and every smack of his hand is followed immediately with a slight downward thrust from Sam, pushing himself into Dean's leg to increase his pleasure. Dean occasionally stops after a smack to caress Sam's cheeks, soothing a little. Other times, he presses his fingertips into the crack of Sam's ass, squeezing and spreading him, rubbing against his asshole. Sam gives him a little reward by pushing back against his fingers, and then down to rub his cock against Dean's leg. Dean knows he can't keep this up much longer before he has to have his dick in that ass. After the next smack, Dean hears a soft, desperate moan from Sam, and has to bite back an answering moan as his already-hard cock twitches.

"Dean," Sam breathes, thrusting his hips hard against Dean's thigh. "Please."

As much as Dean wants to impale Sam on his cock right now and get them both off, he wants Sam to come first. This is his kink, after all. "Sam, sit up."

Sam slowly sits up on his knees and looks at Dean. "Why did you…"

"No talk." Dean toes off his boots, then proceeds to undo his jeans, pushing them, and his boxers, down and off. When he strips off his top and throws it on the floor, he looks back at Sam. "Shhh," he says, gently, when he sees Sam take a breath to speak.

Sam closes his mouth again, quiet. He needs Dean's touch again. Now.

"Sam, I want you to straddle my legs, on your hands and knees, facing away from me."

Sam hesitates for a couple of seconds – and one eyebrow raise - before following instructions.

"Spread your legs a little wider. That's it." Dean slides his body down the bed a little, underneath and between Sam, positioning himself just right. Then, without warning, he spreads Sam's cheeks, lifts his head, and runs his tongue from perineum to puckered hole.

"OH FUCK DEAN!"

"Mmmm…" Dean vocalises. "Again, little brother?"

"God yes! Don't stop."

Dean repeats his blissful assault on Sam's ass.

Sam arches his back to press more firmly against Dean's tongue. "I wanna taste you, too, Dean." With that, he drops his head to Dean's crotch and laves the head of his cock. Sam then slides his mouth over and down Dean's length, and sucks as he draws back.

Dean groans, which vibrates against Sam's sensitive muscles, and that has Sam bracing his weight on one arm while his other hand reaches between their bodies for his aching cock. Unfortunately, this position is immediately awkward, and Dean seems to read Sam's predicament. Dean reaches his hand between them and pushes Sam's hand away so he can take over. He reverses his grip and strokes Sam, firmly, in time with his probing tongue, and Sam makes that beautiful growling purr again in his throat as he occasionally pushes back on Dean's tongue. Just as Dean thinks that Sam is too consumed with sensation to think coherently, Sam braces his hands on Dean's thighs and resumes his wet and perfect ministrations on Dean's weeping cock.

"Mmmmm, Sammy, suck me hard, baby."

Sam obliges, working Dean's shaft just the way he likes it.

Dean has one lucid thought in amongst the many lust-consumed thoughts, and turns his head to see the journal sitting on the bedside table. Reaching for it with his left hand, he instructs Sam to move forward, just a little. With the book gripped properly, Dean smacks Sam's ass, and Sam responds by moaning around Dean's cock before swallowing him down to the base. "You want me to do that again, Sammy?" A backwards thrust is all the answer Dean needs, and he smacks him again, and again, while continuing to pump Sam's impossibly hard erection. After a few more smacks, and a few more breathless moans from Sam, Dean drops the book, and laps at Sam's ass and cheeks like a thirsty cat over a dish of cream.

Sam pulls his mouth away from Dean for a moment. "Oh God," he draws out, leaning his head back, mouth open. "Oh, that feels so good. Dean, I want your fingers inside me. Come on, big brother, make me come." He lowers his head again, wraps his lips behind the head of Dean's cock, and sucks hard.

That action, as well as Sam's dirty words, are almost enough to make Dean drive his cock up into Sam's mouth, but he resists the urge, shaking slightly with the need. Instead, he massages his thumb around Sam's hole, alternately adding and relieving pressure. At the same time, Dean's other hand squeezes the head of Sam's cock on the up stroke. Sam moans around his cock and Dean's eyes almost roll up into his head. _I've gotta make Sammy come, and soon, or I'm gonna blow before him_.

Dean removes his hand from around Sam's shaft and rubs his fingers across his slit. Then, taking his hand away altogether, he slicks his opposite index finger with the precome and slides it inside Sam's ass in one fluid motion, not stopping to let Sam get accustomed to the intrusion.

"Oh yeah! More, Dean. And get your hand back on my cock, now," he says roughly.

Dean smiles. "Sam, you're such a slut."

Sam chuckles. "You complaining?"

"Fuck, no! I love you like this."

"Then bring me off while I deep throat you."

Still smiling, Dean teases. "Since you asked so nicely…" Dean finishes that sentence by sliding another finger inside Sam and grabbing his cock again. Pistoning his fingers in and out, he then turns his fingers and drives them in hard, hitting Sam's prostate. Sam moans loudly around Dean's cock, and the vibration causes Dean to lose his rhythm momentarily. "Jesus, Sam, do that again and I'm gonna come in your mouth."

Sam replies with another, softer, moan, and withdraws from Dean's shaft with a wet _pop_. "Less talk, more fingers."

"Slut," Dean murmurs, just loud enough for Sam to hear.

"_Your_ slut."

"Damn-fuckin'-straight, baby."

"Come on, Dean, I need to come. Ohhh, yeah, mmmm…" Sam is quickly reduced to single syllables as Dean opens Sam with a third finger. Determined, now, to make Sam come quick and hard, he resumes pumping his cock, cupping and massaging his balls on the down stroke, and squeezing the head on the up stroke.

Sam's breathing becomes more erratic, and his moans more desperate. "Oh, Dean…wanna…come…all over you."

Dean turns his fingers again, and hits Sam's prostate four times in quick succession, and that's it; game over.

Sam growls Dean's name, loudly, as his release hits him, and he erupts over Dean's stomach. The position they're both in prevents Sam from collapsing on top of Dean, so he braces his arms instead, hanging his head and closing his eyes. When he opens them again a minute later, it is in response to Dean withdrawing his fingers, slowly. Sam moves down a little and then turns around, still straddling Dean. Grasping Dean's swollen cock, he starts to stroke, all the while looking into his eyes. "You need to come, Dean," he says softly.

Dean's eyes close. "Then you'd better pick up the pace, Sammy, 'cause that ain't gonna do it." He feels Sam's body moving above him but he keeps his eyes closed.

Sam leans over, his hand still on Dean's cock, and kisses him very slowly. Then, Sam contradicts that leisurely kiss by whispering next to his ear, "Fuck me, Dean. Come inside me."

Dean's eyes open to look into Sam's, two inches away.

Sam encourages him further. "Push me on my back, slide your thick cock inside me, and fuck me hard. I wanna feel you for days."

Sam is vertical for precisely three seconds before Dean launches up and pushes Sam to the mattress. Running his fingers through the come on his stomach, he slicks his cock and almost brutally enters Sam. When Sam cries out, Dean stops. "Sam, I'm sor…"

Sam's fingers press against Dean's mouth. "Don't. Don't stop. God, don't stop," he says emphatically.

Dean's hands grip Sam's hips and he creates a punishing rhythm, thrusting deep and hard while, at the same time, pulling Sam onto his cock. "Oh Sammy…God…you're so tight around me," he groans, eyes half closed at the sensation.

Sam's legs wrap around Dean's hips, urging him on. "Hard and fast, Dean; give it to me."

Dean gives Sam what he needs; what they both need. Dean tears his eyes away from Sam's face for a moment to travel down the perfect body under him, stopping at the point where they are joined. Moving his right hand to Sam's cock, he grips him tight and pumps him at the same, relentless pace as his thrusts.

Sam pushes his head back into the mattress, and he rocks up, desperately, trying to bring Dean further inside him. "Dean," he draws out breathlessly.

Barely a minute later, Dean feels the beginning of the end, and groans. "Sam, I'm gonna…oh God, come with me, Sammy!"

Sam meets Dean's thrusts and comes with his brother's hand wrapped around him, just as he feels Dean rock his hips and hold himself deep inside, pumping stream after stream inside Sam's pulsing walls.

Dean collapses heavily on his brother's chest, his head coming to rest on the curve of Sam's shoulder, both chests rising and falling dramatically as they fight to slow their breathing.

After a few moments, Sam brings his hand up to run over Dean's head and trail down his neck and shoulders. Sam feels Dean's lips as he lays a kiss on his shoulder, and Sam closes his eyes, completely satisfied.

The room is quiet for a minute. Then, a voice. Through the wall. "Thank Christ, they've killed each other. And about time!" The last words are shouted, for effect.

Sam feels Dean shake with laughter, not making a sound, and Sam gives in, chuckling softly.

Raising his head with a smug smile on his face, Dean looks at Sam. "How does it feel to be a porn star, Sam?"

Sam grins. "You know, I could get used to it."

Dean snorts. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again, you're not as vanilla as I thought you were. You're almost rainbow sherbet…or mint chip cookie dough."

Sam pretends to think hard about that for a moment. "Nah, I think I'm cookies'n'cream with a raspberry swirl, but, with your help, I could work up to rainbow sherbet."

Lifting Sam's arm to read his watch, Dean says, "Well, I've got another twenty-two hours and forty minutes of my winnings to take advantage of, so we'll see what flavour you are at the end. So long as you still taste like Sam," he adds, licking along Sam's collarbone.


	4. Dean's Babies

As much as he doesn't want to move right now, as much as he's enjoying the feel of Dean's warm, naked body against his, both breathing deep and slow again after their night of lovemaking, he desperately needs a shower. With a sigh, Sam moves his hand on Dean's back, lightly rubbing up and down. "You conscious?" He asks quietly. A second later, he can actually feel Dean's smile against his chest.

"No."

Sam huffs his amusement. "Well, that's too bad, 'cause I need to get up and have a shower."

Dean moans his reluctance to move but slowly rolls over, nonetheless. Lifting his head to let Sam get up, he watches his brother walk around the bed and towards the bathroom, his eyes only half open, but still enough to appreciate Sam's lean, graceful form. "Let me know if you need any help with those hard to reach places," he says, his deep, sleepy voice making that offer full of promise.

Sam laughs. "The places that you're thinking of…I can reach by myself, thanks."

Dean smirks. "The offer's open if you change your mind."

"I'm having a shower to get clean, not get dirty again," he says, still smiling.

"Dirty can be good, Sammy."

"Yeah, it can, and I'm sure that whatever you've got planned for me today, I'm gonna be dirty again, but until then…" Sam leaves the end of that sentence hanging and disappears behind the bathroom door.

Looking at his watch and calculating, Dean smiles and starts thinking about what he wants from Sam with the remaining fifteen hours and fifty minutes of his winnings. After a minute, he has mentally included two things on his list. After two minutes, he has added another. Dean clasps his hands behind his head and closes his eyes.

When Sam walks back into the room ten minutes later, he smiles softly when he looks over to Dean, lying on his stomach, his hands under the pillow, with the sheet and blanket hastily pulled over his ass and legs. Sam is pretty sure Dean isn't asleep, but he has a better way of finding out than the regular 'you awake?'. Dropping his towel, he approaches the foot of the bed and starts to crawl up Dean's body, keeping his knees either side of Dean's legs. He stops almost immediately, and slowly pulls down the sheet and blanket, exposing Dean to his appreciative gaze. Without hesitation, he braces his hands on the mattress, either side of Dean's hips, and leans down to place soft, lingering kisses on each cheek. Sam gets his answer when Dean voices a low, drawn out moan.

"Mmmm…feels good."

Sam is encouraged and sits down over Dean's legs to slowly massage Dean's thighs, cheeks, and lower back, occasionally pressing harder with the heel of his hands, or his fingers, working the muscles.

"_Damn_, Sammy," Dean says, turning his head on the pillow, "if we ever have to go undercover in a massage salon, you're the masseuse, 'cause you've got some definite talent."

"Uh-uh, I don't wanna touch anyone's body but yours." Lifting his hands away from Dean's ass, Sam slides up his back, and places a kiss on Dean's shoulder.

Dean squirms as Sam's wet hair tickles along his skin.

Placing another kiss in between Dean's shoulder blades, Sam then whispers in his ear, "You need a shower."

Dean sighs. "Well, that's a mood-breaker."

Sam smiles. "Not if I'm coming with you, it's not."

"Well, why didn't you say so?" He responds, suddenly more awake. "Get off me."

"Why? You too weak to push me off?" Sam challenges, with a smile.

With a frustrated growl, Dean reacts quickly, reversing their positions and pinning Sam to the bed with practiced moves.

Sam grins up at Dean.

"You like being thrown down by your big brother?"

Sam puts on a comical voice. "Oh yeah, you're my big, strong hero."

Dean glares at Sam, and the corners of his mouth lift slightly, considering. Leaning down to Sam's right ear, he whispers, "How about we find a better use for that smart mouth of yours, baby brother?"

As Dean pulls back and sits over Sam's legs, Sam blatantly looks down Dean's body, and up, raising his eyebrows. "What _exactly_ did you have in mind?"

Dean smiles, and breaks his train of thought as he looks down at Sam. "I love it when you look at me that way."

"What way's that?"

"Like you're the cat and I'm the cream."

Sam's answering smile lights up his whole face, and he chuckles. "Weren't you saying something about finding a better use for my mouth?"

"Yeah, your _smart_ mouth. I think you should give me a tongue lashing," he says with a smirk. "Then," he continues, stretching himself over Sam so their naked bodies are flush against each other, from crotch to chest, "you can wrap those enticing lips around me and take me into your mouth. _All_ the way into your mouth."

"And then?"

"Then you can suck me like there's no tomorrow." Dean looks at Sam and can see the desire in the deep-water green eyes. Dean drops his voice lower and adds a suggestive tone. "You know how I like it."

A slow smile appears on Sam's face. "Yeah," he says softly. "Want me to prove it?"

Dean smirks. "Stupid question." When Sam attempts to sit up, Dean pushes him back down. "On second thought…"

Sam raises an eyebrow. "You _don't_ want me to suck your cock?"

"Again, stupid question, but I've only got half a day left to collect my winnings, and there are a couple of things I want from you before the day's up."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Oh, nothing too adventurous," Dean answers, trying to play down his plans.

"Well, what's next on the list?" Sam asks, realising that he's starting to enjoy the anticipation.

Dean takes a moment to think. Then, his stomach ultimately makes the decision. "Breakfast."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Should've known your stomach would come before me."

Dean chuckles. "But you're a very close second." Leaning down, he tongues Sam's left nipple, and then sucks it into his mouth as it hardens.

Sam inhales sharply as he feels the slow suction of Dean's mouth, working in tandem with the playful tease of Dean's tongue, and closes his eyes. _If this is to make up for the breakfast remark…apology accepted_.

Lifting his head slightly, Dean looks at Sam, head back and eyes closed, and moves up to kiss his throat and jaw line.

When Dean pulls away, Sam opens his eyes and looks up at him. "Why'd you stop?"

With a soft smile, Dean answers. "I need a shower, remember?"

Sam glares at him. "Tease."

Dean smiles, kisses Sam quickly, and is off the bed and in the bathroom before Sam can do anything more than groan in frustration.

When Dean comes out of the bathroom, preceding a cloud of steam, Sam is dressed and standing at the kitchen counter with the laptop open in front of him.

"Looking for jobs?" Dean asks, rubbing a towel through his hair.

"Yeah," Sam answers, not looking up.

"Getting bored with me already?"

Sam looks up and gives him a crooked smile. "No, but you knew we'd have to get back on the road within a few days."

"I know," Dean says, without enthusiasm. "So, have you found anything?"

"No, but Bobby has. Come 'ere," he adds, in answer to Dean's frown.

Dean moves over to stand next to Sam, and reads an email from Bobby:

_Got this from a friend of a friend, who lives in Montgomery.  
'Animal shape-shifters. Montgomery, AL. According to two reliable sources (see below), affects kids from 6-15 years of age. Can shape-shift into an animal of their choosing. They seem to be dealing with stressful situations on an on-going basis, either at home or at school. Probably an escape mechanism. They can be close to home and still not recognised. Assumed that shape-shifter mated with human females to produce these offspring, which means the 'shifter probably inhabited the husbands' skin during that time. Ability usually disappears around mid-adolescence. Address: Ralleigh Street, between numbers 1129 and 1230, but not all houses in that strip have kids, and not all of the kids have developed abilities. No reports of any deaths. Apparently, there aren't any kids under 9 now with this ability, so the 'shifter has probably moved on. We need to make sure, though. It's unlikely you'll need your weapons unless it is still there. Two former shape-shifting kids still live in Montgomery. Names are Cameron Lewis (23 years old) and Stacey Franklin (20). Both addresses in phone book. Call if you need help, chuckleheads.'_

Dean frowns. "So, was the shape-shifter's motivation to create baby 'shifters to keep their species – or whatever – alive?"

Sam shrugs. "Possible. If that's the case, he may be doing the same thing all over the country, moving from town to town every ten to fifteen years. Seems a long time to stay in one town, though. Unless, for some reason, he leaves and returns to that neighbourhood each year. We should find out the kids' dates of birth."

"Your second suggestion sounds more likely. I dunno, though, there's gotta be more to it. It still sounds a little weak."

"Yeah," Sam agrees. "Well, I think we should check out this Ralleigh Street first. I wonder where they're changing." As he sees the start of Dean's frown, Sam elaborates. "They can't exactly change into animal form out in the open. And, assuming that they turn into the same animal each time, it would suggest that these kids don't shed their animal skin; it's a part of them, somehow. Definitely not your normal shape-shifter."

"Kinda like the animagus in Harry Potter." He sees Sam's raised eyebrows. "What? You can read those books but I can't?"

"No, I just didn't know you _had_ read them."

Dean shrugs. "It helped when I was too keyed up to sleep." He concentrates on Bobby's email again, and frowns slightly. "He said the kids are dealing with stressful situations."

"What are you thinking?"

"Well, what if more kids in that street are shape-shifters, but haven't discovered their ability 'cause they haven't gone through anything stressful?"

Sam nods. "We could be dealing with more kids."

"It's not our usual job," Dean comments, as he walks over to his bed. He lifts his duffel onto the mattress and chooses a t-shirt and his favourite faded denims. He is about to pull out a long sleeved top as well, but changes his mind and opts for his green over-shirt. "I was thinking," Dean starts, dropping the towel and getting dressed.

"What?" Sam asks, looking up.

Dean looks at Sam with a straight face. "Pancakes," he says, breaking out into a smile.

Sam rolls his eyes but can't help smiling in response. "Okay, but try not to drown them in syrup this time. You'll have false teeth before you're fifty."

Dean's smile grows wider. "All the better to suck…"

As soon as Sam sees Dean's smile, he anticipates his response, and throws his wet towel at Dean, effectively stopping him mid sentence.

Dean chuckles. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah."

Having ordered breakfast, Dean leans back while Sam plays with the menu that's still in his hand.

Sam gets Dean's attention by nudging the side of his boot. "Are we gonna leave in the morning for Montgomery?"

"Yeah, and not a moment sooner; I've got some unfinished business tonight." Dean smiles smugly.

Sam returns the smile. "Come on, gimme a hint."

"Hmm…" Dean says, thinking. "I don't think so; only that I have a couple of things in mind."

Sam raises his eyebrows. "Such as?"

"Oh, Sammy, I can't divulge my master plan, but you'll like them."

When their breakfast arrives, Dean digs into his stack of pancakes with reckless abandon and, watching him, Sam picks up one of his onion rings and tosses it on Dean's plate.

Dean looks up and quirks his eyebrow.

"That's a life preserver for the pancakes, before they drown."

Dean grins, before popping the onion ring in his mouth. "Onion ring with maple syrup. Strange." A moment later, Dean eyes the bacon on Sam's plate. "I'll trade you, a rasher of bacon for a bite of my pancakes."

Sam looks down at his plate. "I dunno, I think my bacon is worth more than one bite."

"Come on, Sam, you can fit a lot into that big mouth of yours." Dean gives his brother a knowing smirk. Sam's answering smile clearly tells Dean that they're now thinking the same thing.

Sam continues to look at Dean with renewed interest. Then, pushing his plate aside, he leans part way over the table. "Come here," he says softly.

Dean's eyes widen slightly. Sam's voice may have been soft, but the intent in those two words wasn't. "Sam," he says, in a desperate whisper, "we're in a diner full of people."

"I don't care. I have a sudden urge to kiss the maple syrup off your lips." After a few seconds of watching Dean's expression change a couple of times, he smiles. "I'm making you hard right now, aren't I."

Dean looks at Sam for another moment before he gives in (like he could've done anything else) and leans in a little. "As a rock."

Sam leans in, pulls Dean closer by grabbing his over-shirt, and kisses him for everyone to see. He takes his time, running his tongue over and around Dean's soft lips, and invites Dean's own tongue to join the slow dance. Reluctantly pulling back a minute later, they both sit back down, and Sam licks his own lips, savouring the taste of maple syrup.

Dean faintly hears one woman make a comment before he gets to his feet, grabs Sam's arm, and forcibly steers him out the door and to the car. "Get in," he says simply, moving around to the driver's side.

With a smug smile on his face, Sam does as he's told, and waits to see whether Dean will make it all the way back to the motel before his next move.

He doesn't, but that's all Sam's fault. Dean isn't the only one with a hard-on in the car, and Sam decides to push Dean just that little bit further. Sam moves away from the door, closer to his tightly strung big brother. Placing his big hand on Dean's thigh, and splaying his fingers, he strokes slowly up and down. When Dean's breath hitches, Sam leans over to whisper in his ear, "I want you so much."

Precisely eight seconds later, Dean swerves onto the wrong side of the road, and then turns sharply onto a dirt track, which curves around and parallels the main road, about thirty yards back. When Dean stops the car and puts it in park, he lunges for Sam and attacks his mouth hungrily, the steering wheel only slightly hampering his progress.

Sam gives back with the same desperation. As he's being pushed against the passenger door, he opens his legs to allow Dean closer. Sam groans as Dean roughly pushes himself against Sam, and they thrust their groins against each other. "Dean," Sam manages, as he releases Dean's mouth. "We can't in here…not enough room."

Dean's head drops and he leans his forehead against Sam's chest, breathing heavily. Then, his head snaps up. "Out," he says gruffly. Not bothering to wait to see if Sam follows his command, he pops the glove box, removes a bottle, and retreats to his side to get out.

Sam follows Dean's movements as they walk around to the front of the car. Sitting on the hood, Sam watches as Dean stalks towards him and steps in between his legs. In contrast to Sam's eyes, which are bright with expectation, Dean's eyes are dark with desire.

Pushing him on his back, against the hood, Dean slides his hands up and under Sam's shirt and kisses his way from navel to nipple, licking around the sensitive nub, before sucking it and drawing back with his teeth.

Sam moans softly and lifts his head to watch Dean's actions. "You planning on taking advantage of me, big brother?" Sam asks with a small smile.

Dean lifts his head and fixes Sam with his best predatory glare. "Oh yeah. You planning on stopping me?"

"No," Sam replies with feeling, his smile growing wider. "I'm all yours."

"Mmmm…I like the sound of that." Dean captures Sam's lips in a deep but brief kiss, and then pulls away to stand up. "Get your clothes off."

If Sam ever needed motivation, watching Dean in the process of getting naked is _it_.

They shed their clothes quickly, but not hurriedly, like a striptease playing in double time.

When Dean steps out of his form fit boxers, he then reaches down to retrieve the bottle of lube from his jeans pocket and pops the lid. Fixing Sam a look filled with exciting – and dirty – promises, Dean lightly grasps his straining erection and almost lazily rubs his thumb over head and slit. As soon as Sam hooks his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers and drags them down and off, Dean is back against Sam, pressing himself against his brother's hard body, while Sam, in turn, is pressed against the Impala's hard body.

"Tell me what you're gonna do, Dean," Sam says, his voice lowering until it's like a caress against Dean's skin.

Dean looks into his eyes. "I'm gonna fuck my baby up against my other baby." He suddenly smiles. "God, I wish we were filming this."

Sam lets out a laugh. "Kinky."

Dean scoffs and cocks an eyebrow. "You wanna be the pot or the kettle?"

Smirking, Sam relents. "Point taken."

"Turn around, Sammy," Dean says, his breath warm against Sam's ear.

Sam ignores him and captures Dean's lips again, pulling him closer with a hand behind his head. "Love those lips," he murmurs, and proves it, again.

Dean pulls back with a quiet moan. "Don't make me get rough, little brother."

Sam looks up at him. "I want you to get rough." Another kiss. "I want to feel your strong hands on my hips, leaving bruises. I want you to take me hard. To slam your cock inside my ass." He lowers his voice. "Make me your slut, Dean."

"Fuck, Sammy," Dean growls, and brutally turns him around, pushing Sam heavily against the car. Popping the lid of the bottle of lube one-handed, Dean manages to squeeze more than enough onto his fingers, and then drops the bottle into the dirt.

Sam moans loudly as he feels Dean's finger enter him urgently, and again when a second finger stretches him further, almost immediately after. "Come on, Dean, stop playing and slide your thick cock inside me."

Sam's dirty words crumble the last of Dean's restraint, and he slicks his shaft with the excess lube. Dean slowly withdraws his fingers, and then, with his hands gripping his hips, forcefully enters Sam, not stopping until his balls rest against Sam's ass. Listening to the combination of pleasure and pain in Sam's cry, he stills his movements and just holds himself deep inside for a moment.

With his hands spread on the engine-warmed hood, Sam leans his head back and revels in the feeling of being completely filled.

When Sam pushes back, Dean gets the message, and slides nearly all the way out, feeling Sam clench his muscles in the process. "Fuck. Oh Sam, that feels like your hand is squeezing me. So good, baby." With that, he thrusts back inside and starts a rhythm for them both.

Sam moves to lean on his elbows, and immediately feels the effects of the new position, both inside him and on his cock, which is now rubbing up and down the hood. Drops of precome slick the black paintwork. "Oh yeah!" he groans loudly, when he feels Dean hit his prostate. "Fuck me, Dean! Fuck your little brother in the ass."

Moaning in response, Dean pistons harder into Sam. "God, I love your filthy mouth, Sammy. Keep talking. Tell me how it feels to have my cock inside you."

Sam moans again. "Oh, I love it when you fuck me. I love having your thick cock filling my ass. Opening myself for you. So dirty and so right."

"You like it dirty, don't you, Sammy."

Sam moans again. "Oh yeah," he says breathlessly.

"Mmmm…you're so fuckin' hot, the way you're bent over my girl. But," he adds, slowing his thrusts and then stopping, "I need you on your back now, Sammy." With that, Dean withdraws his cock from Sam's ass and turns a momentarily surprised Sam around to lie back on the hood. Dean lifts Sam's legs in the air and braces them against his shoulders. He then guides his cock back inside his brother and rolls his hips as he thrusts inside.

"Oh God," Sam says shakily, trying to thrust up to meet Dean, unsuccessfully; the position he's in doesn't allow for much movement on his part. He gives up quickly and allows himself to be taken.

Dean pushes forward against Sam's legs as he rams his tight hole, giving Sam his wish. "You're my slut now, Sammy. How do you like it?"

"Fuck, Dean," he growls between clenched teeth. "I love it. Fuck me hard and deep. I want to feel every inch of you inside me."

"You're my cock-hungry slut, Sam, and I'm gonna pound your tight ass until you lose control and come all over yourself."

"Oh God, yess," he moans, his eyes drifting closed at the sensory overload. When he feels Dean's hand wrap around his shaft and squeeze as he pulls up to the head, Sam's eyes open again quickly, and fix on Dean's hungry expression. "Come on, Dean, bring me off, baby."

Dean reacts by removing his hand from around Sam's cock, and uses both hands to lift Sam's hips up off the hood to change the angle of his thrusts. Immediately, he hits Sam's prostate and smiles wickedly when he hears Sam's unrestrained cry.

"FUCK! HARDER, DEAN! Ahhhh…"

"Grab your cock and come for me, little brother. Now!"

Sam wraps his hand around his impossibly hard shaft and pumps furiously, fighting the need to close his eyes; Dean always wants to see his eyes when he comes. "Oh fuck, so close," he pants.

"Now, Sammy! Come for me!" A second later, the combination of Sam's loud, animalistic growl, and the wall of muscle clamping around his cock, obliterates all Dean's control, and he slams deep inside one more time before erupting – seemingly – an endless stream of come inside his lover. In the process, Dean wraps one hand around Sam's as he's still milking his cock, and watches as Sam moans and spurts one more time. Dean then moves his hand to rub around the head and collects Sam's come on his fingers.

With his eyes now closed, Sam lays boneless against the cooling metal, and a small smile forms on his lips.

Dean sees this and brings his come-covered fingers to Sam's mouth, transferring the salty taste to his brother's lips.

Sam's tongue flicks out and runs around his lips, gathering his taste, and then he opens his eyes. When their eyes lock, they give each other a satisfied smile, and no words are spoken for a moment.

When Dean slowly withdraws from Sam's body, he drapes himself over Sam and kisses him, almost lazily.

"Was that one of the things you had in mind for me?"

Dean's smile grows wider. "Yeah, but I saw _me_ as the instigator, not _you_."

"Doesn't matter; it was perfect." Sam wraps his arms around Dean and kisses his brother's smug smile right off him. Breaking away a minute later with a series of smaller kisses, Sam rests his head back on the hood. "How about we go back to the motel and get cleaned up?"

"Mmmm…shower. I'll wash your back if you wash mine," Dean says with a smirk.

"Deal," Sam replies with a matching smirk.


	5. You Wash My Back

**I originally thought this was going to be my last chapter in this story. Turns out, I have one more chapter left (unless you tell me to stop writing). In the meantime, I hope you like this one. **

Oh, and thank you to everyone who have left reviews. You're all lovely, lovely people. I especially like it when you tell me what parts (and no, I'm not talking about Sam and Dean's 'parts' lol) you like. Feedback is fuel. Keeps me going.

~13 ½ hours left for Dean to claim his winnings~

As Dean stands in front of their motel door, digging in his jeans pocket for the key, Sam moves up behind him and presses a kiss to the back of his neck. "Do that again," Dean says with a smile, standing still. When he feels the second kiss, he also feels Sam's arm wrapping around him, holding him still as Sam moves closer, flush against Dean's back. Dean closes his eyes.

Just as Dean is about to suggest that they take this inside, they hear a female voice yell, "Hey!" They both turn their heads to the voice, belonging to a middle-aged woman who looks to have just stepped out of her room, four doors down.

With a sneer that both brothers can see, even from that distance, she says, "I don't care what you two freaks do together, just don't flaunt your…sickness in public."

Dean turns around to face Sam but looks at the woman as he speaks. "I was just about to suggest the same thing," he says brightly, raising his voice to be heard. Then, with the hint of a smile, he kisses Sam slow and deep, and proceeds to unbuckle his belt. "Whaddaya say, _lover_," he teases, "should we continue this inside?"

Sam smiles and reaches around with one hand to cup Dean's ass possessively. "Oh yeah," he answers, emphatically. "I'm definitely up for round two."

Dean can't resist one more move, though, and starts unbuttoning Sam's jeans. Then, looking back to the woman – who now has a look of horror on her face – he says, cheerily, "Thanks for the suggestion. Have a nice day."

By the time Dean retrieves the motel key, the woman has disappeared back inside her room.

Sam chuckles, and steps back to let Dean turn around and open the door. "Couldn't help yourself, could you."

"Nope," Dean replies with a smirk. "She was asking for it, though."

"True. Even so, it's probably a good thing we're leaving in the morning. Before we're lynched or something."

Dean snorts.

Inside, Dean grabs Sam's arm as he's walking past, and turns him around. Then, he gives a backwards kick to the front door to close it. "Now," he says, reaching for Sam, "I think I should finish what I started." With that, he continues to unbutton Sam's jeans.

Sam grins, and removes his shirt slowly, button by button. "You're insatiable."

"I have inspiration," Dean answers, and briefly runs his hand over Sam's denim-clad crotch. "Besides, I have a willing partner."

"What can I say, you turn me into a horny teenager."

Dean smirks.

Watching Dean's hands, Sam asks with amusement, "Am I gonna be the only one naked, here?"

"No, I plan to be naked about ten seconds after you."

"Ten seconds? That long?"

Still smirking, Dean slides his hands inside Sam's open jeans, before pushing both denim and cotton down over lean hips and strong thighs.

By this time, Sam has his shirt unbuttoned and doesn't waste time discarding it on the floor. Resisting the urge to let this moment disintegrate into hot hands and hotter mouths, he pulls Dean back up and kisses him slowly, reaching for the button on his jeans.

Dean stops him with a hand over Sam's. Breaking the kiss, Dean looks at Sam with a small smile. "Go run the shower and I'll be there in a minute." At Sam's questioning look, he elaborates. "If we both get naked here, we're not gonna make it to the bathroom. And I want you in the shower."

Sam grins. "Good point." Turning, Sam toes off his boots, steps out of his jeans and boxers, and walks into the bathroom.

Dean stands still for a moment, watching his very naked, very sexy brother, until he disappears behind the door. Mentally shaking himself, he smiles as he undresses. _Now who's the horny teenager?_ He hears the water running moments later as he pulls off his boots, and quickly strips off his jeans and boxers, releasing a slight moan as his hardening cock is freed from its restraint.

Sam adjusts the water temperature and steps under the showerhead, previously adjusted to suit his height. Lifting his face to the spray of water, he then turns to fully wet his hair. When he opens his eyes again, Dean is leaning against the doorframe, watching him. Sam smiles. "You gonna join me or just stand there? 'Cause if you're not in this shower in ten seconds, I'm gonna have to start without you."

Dean's answering smile is pure sin. "Ten seconds? That long?" Dean mimics. "You know, I've got a pretty good view from here; I'm tempted to make you prove that."

Watching Dean, Sam slowly wraps his fingers around his straining erection, but doesn't get any further before Dean is right there, and his hand takes over. Sam exhales audibly, and his eyes close for a second.

Releasing him, Dean looks straight at Sam. "Turn around," he says, and watches as Sam's eyes open slowly, before complying and facing the tiled wall. Dean adjusts the showerhead slightly to one side, picks up the bar of soap, and proceeds to lather his hands. Starting with Sam's broad shoulders, Dean kneads the muscles as he washes, and then moves his soapy hands across prominent shoulder blades, enjoying the feeling of rippling strength when Sam moves slightly to press closer. Dean's touch changes from gentle to firm as he traces Sam's spine down, and then up.

Sam immediately relaxes into the feeling and closes his eyes. "I'm not the only one with talented hands," he says, dropping his head forward as Dean moves his hands back up to his neck.

"Just one of my many talents, Sammy," Dean answers with a smile. Sliding his hands around to Sam's chest, Dean continues his soapy caress, splaying his hands over Sam's pecs, and then down to his lean, hard stomach and abdomen. "Who would've thought that my baby brother would grow up to feel like this? All hard and…" - Dean slides one hand further down - "hard." He follows that up with a kiss to Sam's shoulder.

Dean's hands are still on the move, now trailing down Sam's sides, over his ribs and tapering waist, before lathering them again to slide further south. From the curve of lower back to the fullness of firm cheeks, Dean keeps exploring, taking his time.

Sam opens his mouth and exhales on a sigh when he feels Dean's fingers trace down the crack of his ass, before delving between his cheeks and spreading him. Now breathing a little less steadily, he tries to remain still as Dean continues his exploration, now rubbing against Sam's entrance. After only a few seconds, Sam recognises that he's fighting a losing battle. He braces one forearm against the tiles and drops his head to rest against his arm.

Pushing himself against Sam's back, Dean rests his chin on Sam's shoulder and speaks softly in his ear. "Remember everything I'm doing to you, Sammy, 'cause when it's your turn, I want you to do exactly the same to me."

"Mmmm…gladly," he answers. A moment later, Sam gasps as he feels Dean's finger push inside him, and slowly penetrate past the tight wall of muscle.

"Sensitive?"

"A little, thanks to you."

Dean smiles. "I'll go slow."

"I thought we were in here to get clean," Sam says a little breathlessly, relaxing his muscles around Dean's finger.

"We are." Dean reaches for the soap and lathers his free hand before dropping it.

When Sam hears the thud of the soap on the bottom of the bath, he looks down and chuckles. "You dropped the soap, big brother. Gonna bend over and get it?"

Dean chuckles, low and sexy. "You want my ass, little brother?"

"Stupid question," Sam answers, parroting Dean's earlier response.

"Well, I might just let you have it. Later. But, for now…" He lets the rest of that sentence die as he wraps his free hand around the base of Sam's erection and firmly strokes his impressive length to the head. "Mmmm…I like stroking you when you're all soapy."

Sam is breathing hard, and tries to answer Dean but his brain won't let him; not with a coherent sentence, at least. With his eyes closed, he simply takes advantage of the way Dean is torturing him with slow, lazy strokes; at the same time, he feels the withdraw and push of Dean's finger inside him. After several seconds, he makes an effort to focus. "God, Dean, you're short-circuiting my brain. It's too much…and not enough."

"Well, let's see if I can change the 'not enough' part." Dean abruptly stops his actions, withdrawing his finger and removing his other hand. Before Sam can do anything more than whimper, Dean drops to his knees behind him. "Lean forward, Sammy."

Sam does as instructed, now bracing both forearms against the cold tile.

Dean needs more. "Come on, Sam, be my slut again. Push your ass back until it finds my tongue."

Sam's cock twitches at Dean's words, and he arches his back, finding and pushing at Dean's tongue and lips. He releases a loud moan as he feels Dean spread his cheeks wide and lick at his asshole. "Oooohh…Dean…ahhhyeah," Sam vocalises softly; almost reverently.

When Dean hears Sam's soft growl in the back of his throat, he has a sudden urge to dramatically pick up the pace to bring him off, but resists for the moment. He notices when Sam moves to wrap his hand around his shaft and starts to stroke himself. That has Dean pulling back to ask a question. "Where do you want me, Sammy? Here?" He asks, flattening his tongue to lick from perineum to his hole. "Or here?" He asks again, turning Sam and guiding his cock into his eager mouth.

"Yess…ohh, suck me Dean. Mmm…wrap those beautiful lips around my cock and make me come."

As Dean's mouth slowly sinks further down Sam's length, he appreciates – again – his little brother's dirty talk, and he'd say so, too, if he wasn't currently on his knees in the shower, in the process of giving said brother a world-class blowjob.

Sam rests his hand at the back of Dean's head and looks down to one of the sexiest sights he can imagine: his big brother, naked, on his knees, moaning softly around his cock.

Dean hears an answering moan from Sam and pulls back slightly to lick and suck at the head of Sam's cock, while his hand strokes his shaft and balls. With a lick, Dean withdraws his mouth and looks up to Sam. "Do you wanna come, baby brother?"

"God yes," Sam answers, looking down at Dean with an equal measure of lust and love in his eyes. "I wanna come in your mouth."

Dean smiles. "Then fuck my mouth, Sammy. I'm _your_ slut right now."

"Fuck, Dean." With Sam's hand at the back of Dean's head, again, he guides Dean's mouth forward until he feels his lips slide over his sensitive flesh and sink down. Then, very slowly, he rolls his hips, watching as Dean takes more of him into his mouth.

Although Dean is feeling a little submissive, he also quickly realises that he has as much control right now as Sam does. Gripping Sam's hip with one hand, he closes his other hand around the base of Sam's cock, primarily to stop himself from choking. As he focuses on relaxing his throat, Sam's thrusts get a little faster. Dean can feel that he's still holding back, though; not wanting to be too aggressive. Moving his hand to mirror his other on Sam's hips, Dean pushes him back against the wall and looks up at him as he pulls back, circling the head of Sam's cock with his tongue, before releasing him altogether. He strokes Sam lazily. "Sam, you're holding back. Don't. So long as my hand's around you," he says, demonstrating, "it's not too much." Then, with a lick along his slit, he pulls Sam towards him again, and eases slowly down his length.

Sam doesn't take his eyes from Dean, and resumes thrusting into his mouth. "Ohh. Oh, so good. Dean. Uhhh…"

Sam isn't holding back now, and Dean's moan is in reaction to his little brother quickly coming apart in his mouth, as well as the distracting lack of attention his own steel-hard cock is receiving.

"Oh my god, fuckin' do that again," Sam says roughly when he feels Dean's moan, the vibration around his dick bringing him ever closer to his release.

Dean changes his moan to a long, throaty groan, and Sam reacts violently, bucking hard into Dean's mouth. Releasing his hand from the base of Sam's cock and holding onto his ass cheeks, he feels Sam swell further around him and clench his muscles as he holds himself deep inside, before shooting his come into Dean's mouth with a loud groan.

A minute later, as Sam starts to recover, he leans his head back against the tiles and tries to will his legs to lock up, and not turn into jelly. As it turns out, his legs don't want to listen. As soon as Dean releases him, he looks down at him. "I have to sit. I can't…" Breathing hard, he opens his legs so Dean is in between them, and slides down the wall, 'til he's face-to-face with Dean again.

Smiling at Sam's blissed-out expression, Dean makes an observation. "You're wrecked. I think you'll have to reciprocate another time. Come on," he says, kissing him briefly, "let's get you into bed."


	6. Watch Part 1

Seeing as though the writing of Chapter 6 is taking longer than I thought (what imagination I have doesn't always like to communicate to a timeframe), I am giving you a 'part one' of the chapter to chew on in the meantime. A teaser, you might say. And it seems as though my 'bold' and 'section breaks' aren't working, so I hope that's not too distracting.

With a hand on Sam's back, Dean gently pushes him out of the bathroom. Dean grabs two towels on the way. "Wait," he says, as Sam is about to fall on Dean's bed. Throwing one towel over his head as Sam turns around, Dean says, with a smile, "Put that down on the bed. Wet brother I can handle, but not a wet bed."

Sam smiles and rolls his eyes, but does as he's told, before doing what he initially intended: falling on the bed on his stomach. "Don't make me do anything else for a while," he says, talking into the pillow.

Dean smirks as he spreads his towel out and joins Sam on the bed, lying on his back. "Jeez, one blowjob and you're out," he says, turning to look at him. "Where's that stamina, Sammy?"

"I think you sucked it outta me."

Dean smiles. Turning onto his side, he slides one hand over Sam's back, his palm slowly running up and down.

"Mmmm…keep that up and I'll be asleep inside five minutes." As soon as he says that, he feels Dean's hard-on against his thigh and turns his head. "Oh jeez, Dean, I didn't even think! I'm such an idiot."

When Sam turns his body to face Dean, and pulls him close, Dean is confused for a second, and then he realises what Sam means. "Oh. Don't worry about it. My balls aren't blue just yet. Red, going on purple, but not blue."

Sam captures Dean's lips and kisses him soundly. "You don't need to worry about it," Sam says softly, their lips still ghosting each other's. "Let me take care of you." Quickly tracing his tongue along Dean's bottom lip, he takes his brother's mouth again and deepens the kiss.

Dean smiles into the kiss and holds him there with a hand to the back of Sam's head. Dean pulls back a few moments later. "I kinda like it when my little brother wants to take care of me."

"Take advantage."

"Oh, I plan to." With that, Dean takes Sam's hand and wraps it around his erection. "I thought you were too out of it to do anything."

"I found my motivation again," Sam answers, pushing Dean onto his back.

Dean wakes up just after two o'clock, spooned behind Sam, his arm draped over him. When Dean takes a deep breath and lazily runs his hand over Sam's chest, Sam stirs and settles his ass more firmly against Dean's crotch.

Dean smiles. "You're asking for trouble doing that." He feels as much as hears Sam's small huff of amusement in response.

"Not before you give me time to recuperate; you pounded me nice and hard this morning."

Dean pulls Sam's hips back further against his currently flaccid dick, before wrapping his arm over him again. "You asked for nice and hard, if I recall correctly," he answers into the back of Sam's neck.

"And I loved it. But _I'm_ pitching next innings."

Dean laughs. "And I'm gonna be the catcher?"

"Yep. Or doesn't that fit in with your plans for me, today?"

"There's only one more thing I have in store for you, today; after that, we'll play it by ear." Dean drags his hand back over Sam's chest and ribs, down his side, before quickly cupping and then smacking Sam's ass. With that, he gets out of bed and starts to dress.

"Going somewhere?" Sam asks, rolling onto his back.

"Yeah, I'm starving. I didn't get to finish breakfast, remember?" He says, with a smile.

Sam smirks. "You're the one who dragged me out of the diner."

Pulling up his jeans, Dean looks at Sam greedily. "What can I say; if I have to choose between pancakes and my brother's ass, there's no contest."

Laughing and rolling his eyes, Sam rolls over to sit on the side of the bed, and runs his hands through his hair as he stretches. "Okay, give me a minute, and I'll go with you."

Dean finishes typing their email response to Bobby and clicks _send_. Then, closing the laptop, he leans back in the chair and clasps his hands behind his head. As he looks over at Sam, sitting on the end of his bed, he sees that Sam is watching him. "What?" He asks, with the hint of a smile.

"Come on, are you gonna tell me what I've got myself in for?" He asks, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dean replies, but his smile grows almost imperceptibly wider.

"Really? Then let me remind you. You said, before, that you've only got one more thing in store for me, today. And then, in the bar, you suggested I have a drink 'cause it might loosen me up a little for later. Starting to ring any bells?"

"Oh yeah," Dean says, still playing along. "I do remember that, now." Then, his smile vanishes and he looks at Sam, answering him seriously. "Okay. This particular request I deliberately saved for last."

"And what's that?" Sam asks.

Dropping his arms, he leans forward in the chair, and braces his forearms on his thighs. "I want what you were going to give me the other night, before I ruined it."

Sam looks at him. "Say it, Dean."

Dean walks over and slowly drops to his knees in between Sam's legs, resting his hands on the outside of Sam's thighs. Looking directly into those green eyes, he says, "I want to watch you touch yourself for me."

Sam pretends to think about it for a few moments, and he seems to convince Dean, since Dean looks anxious. Sam has no intention of refusing him; he wants this as much as his brother does. In fact, Sam's cock immediately reacts to Dean's erotic words. Putting Dean out of his misery, Sam shows him - with a long look and the hint of a smile – that he'll get his wish.

With his hands still on Sam's thighs, Dean leans up and kisses him slowly. "Thanks Sammy." Getting to his feet, and standing in front of Sam, he affectionately runs his fingers through his little brother's soft hair before moving over to sit on his bed, against the bed head. "Cuff me," he says to Sam's back, taking them back to the first time Sam tried this.

Sam turns and looks at him, a little surprised. "Are you sure? It didn't work out too well last time."

"Well, now I know what's gonna happen. Plus, you were right, you have to restrain me, or I won't be able to keep my hands to myself."

"How about I use our ties, instead. More comfortable."

"Even better," Dean says with a smile.

Sam turns away and allows himself a small smile. He knows every one of Dean's expressions, and has seen them thousands of times. The one he just gave Sam, however, is one of his favourites: the young, cheeky, and thoroughly adorable expression. He saw Dean give that same expression to the girl whose family they saved from the Wendigo a few years ago. Unfortunately, he hasn't seen it many times since. Mentally shaking his head, and knowing that Dean would call him a girl if he ever voiced that thought, he focuses on the upcoming entertainment and, with a few nerves – since he hasn't planned this – he retrieves two ties from his bag and moves over to stand next to Dean's bed. Without a word, he takes Dean's right wrist and ties the material around, using a double knot. Then he brings Dean's arm up against the bed head and secures the other end in another double knot, both tight enough and loose enough to undo quickly, if necessary. Sam smiles at that thought. Stepping back, he looks at Dean.

"What?" Dean asks.

"Nothing. I guess I just like the idea of you tied up."

That gets a smirk from Dean. "Careful, Sam, your kinks are showing."

Smiling, Sam moves around the bed with the other tie. "Well, keep watching, I'll be showing more than that soon." He ties Dean's other wrist the same way, and stands at the end of the bed, admiring his handiwork. "Not too tight?"

"Nope."

Sam's eyes flick to the lube, sitting on the bedside table, between the beds. Picking it up, he then turns and surveys the room, deciding his first move in this little show of his. While he's thinking, he walks over to the window and closes the curtains, both for privacy and to add a little atmosphere to the room. Sam takes a breath. His heart rate has risen, to the point where he can feel each beat through his body by just standing still. _Oh god, I'm about to perform a striptease and masturbate for Dean. Whose fuckin' bright idea was this? Oh, yeah_.


	7. Watch Part 2

_Okay_. Choosing the scene for his first act, Sam faces Dean and casually (or as casual as he can manage while his heart is thumping) unbuttons his shirt, letting it fall open as he sits in the oversized comfy chair against the opposite wall, across from the beds. Slowly opening his legs, he runs his hands up and down his denim-clad thighs, before cupping his crotch and closing his eyes. After a few moments, he opens his eyes again and focuses on Dean as he unbuckles his belt, arching his back a little as he pulls the belt away from him, and drops it on the floor at the side of the chair.

Dean's eyes move up and down Sam's body, from the hand over his crotch to the ripple and flex of his muscles when he slouches a little in the chair. "Come closer," Dean says, his voice already giving away the desire tingling through his body.

Sam smiles and accommodates Dean by standing up and pulling the chair closer, in between the foot of both beds. "Better?"

"Yeah."

Sam sits down again and opens the top three buttons on his jeans. Reaching for the lube that's waiting on the end of his bed, Sam opens it and makes a show of squeezing a small amount onto his hand. Then, with his eyes locked onto Dean's, he slides his hand down, under the waistband of his jeans and boxers, and grasps his erection. He leans his head back against the top of the backrest but he doesn't take his eyes off his audience. Sam starts to move his hand, stroking slowly, slouching further down in the chair to allow better access. His breathing changes with the sensation, and he attempts to convey to Dean – in one look – just how good it feels.

Dean reads Sam's expression like a book, and his eyes, inevitably, drift down to the front of Sam's jeans, and the rhythm of his hand. As a result, Dean shifts restlessly on the bed as his jeans become more and more constricting.

In response to Dean's movements, Sam becomes more confident and lets himself get into his show. _Okay, don't be nervous. He knows if he teases me about this, he'll never get it again…and he obviously wants it. Show him what he does to me. Pretend it's his hand on my cock_. That works. As his hand slides up and down his shaft, he starts to roll his hips up, slowly and fluidly. His eyes close of their own accord, and his mouth opens on a silent moan as he occasionally rubs his thumb around the head.

"Let me see you," Dean says softly.

Sam opens his eyes at Dean's words. Taking a moment to think about it, he decides to grant the request…to a point. He removes his hand, making sure he's tucked in first, and deals with the remaining buttons. Lifting his hips suggestively, he starts to push the denim over his hips and down his legs. Sitting down again, Sam uses his feet to help pull the jeans the rest of the way off.

"I wanna see _all_ of you," Dean says, his chest rising and falling heavier as his heart rate picks up.

"You will," Sam promises. "I just like playing with you," he adds with a smile.

"Uh, Sam? Right now, it looks like the only one you're playing with is _you_," Dean says, mesmerised by the way Sam is running his hand up and down the outside of his boxers.

Looking down at himself, Sam slides his hand under the waistband and continues to stroke himself slowly, occasionally gripping a little tighter as he pulls up to the head. "I like doing this for you, Dean," he says seductively, his eyes meeting Dean's again. "I like showing you what you do to me. How turned on you make me." He smiles shyly. "Don't laugh but you're making me feel really sexy right now."

Dean can hardly breathe. "God, Sam, you _are_ really sexy. What you're doing for me…it's got to be the sexiest thing I've ever seen."

Sam smiles. "With your history, that's got to be high praise."

"It is."

"Well," Sam says as he removes his hand again and stands up, "the show isn't over yet." With that, Sam moves to stand next to Dean's bed and strips off his boxers. Wrapping his fingers around the underside of his cock, and rubbing the head with his thumb, he asks, almost conversationally, "If you weren't tied to the bed, do you think you could sit there and not touch me?"

"God no," Dean answers honestly.

Kneeling on the mattress, Sam straddles Dean's legs and watches himself as he falls into a slow rhythm, from base to head, and down again. Sam rocks his hips very slightly in time to his rhythm, and his newfound confidence allows him to become a little more vocal.

Dean has a magnificent ringside seat to Sam's show, being only one foot away from his brother's cock, and the hand pumping it slowly but firmly. Not to mention the feel of Sam's ass rocking against his thighs. "Fuck, Sam, you're fucking torturing me."

Sam looks up and gives Dean a sexy smile. "Good."

Watching as precome beads on the head of Sam's cock, Dean tries to keep the pleading tone out of his voice when he says, "Let me taste you."

"No," he responds, giving Dean a calculating look. "You can't touch me, Dean; not yet. But _I _can touch _you_." He then removes his hand and starts to unbuckle and unbutton his jeans.

Sam's pace is way too slow for Dean, and he groans quietly. "Come on, get 'em off."

Slowly, he says, "My show, Dean…my speed. I may be doing this right now because you won the bet, but I'm in control here. Got that?"

Dean smiles in response. "Oh yeah. You getting all alpha-male on me, baby?"

"If you have a problem with that, you'd better say, so I can stop."

"On the contrary; I'm loving it. You're driving me crazy, but I love it. Now can you get these fuckin' jeans off me, please." Dean wiggles his butt a little under Sam's weight.

Sam smiles as he resumes his work. "I _do_ like to see you squirm. With all buttons undone, Sam peels each side away and is met with a nice surprise: no boxers. "I forgot you were going commando." Moving a little further down Dean's legs, Sam braces his weight on both hands, either side of Dean's hips, and kisses the now naked skin in between the V of his open jeans.

Dean lifts his hips, needing more contact; much more. "Uhhh," Dean breathes, fighting the overwhelming urge to close his eyes, so he can see his brother at work.

Letting Dean's hips rise to meet his lips, Sam continues to kiss the newly-exposed flesh, occasionally licking a path up and down the thin trail of hair that leads, invitingly, from navel to pubic hair. When Dean thrusts his hips again in response to Sam's tongue dipping in and around his navel, Sam stops abruptly and sits up.

"Oh, Sammy, please don't stop," Dean says, his breathy words punctuated by his pleading eyes.

Sam smiles. "I was just going to take your jeans off."

"Oh. Proceed."

Climbing off the mattress, Sam stands at the end of the bed, reaches forward to grab the denim just under Dean's hips, and drags them down.

Dean assists by lifting his hips, and groans as his cock is caressed by the pull of the material, before springing free.

Peeling them the rest of the way down, Sam then discards the jeans to the floor and looks at his brother. "I should've made you take off your t-shirt before I tied you."

"Do it next time, now get over here." Sam doesn't move. Dean does, however, see a devious glint in his eyes, before it's confirmed with a slow smile. "What?"

Sam doesn't answer; instead, he moves away from the bed and starts to rummage through Dean's duffel.

"What the hell?"

Still Sam doesn't answer. A few seconds later, when he finds what he's looking for, Sam returns to Dean's side and holds up a pair of scissors.

Dean's wary look changes in a second to mild alarm. "Oh no you don't. I like this t-shirt. You're not…"

"Shhh, Dean, I'll buy you a new one." With that, Sam kneels on the bed again, over his legs, and carefully cuts the sleeves of Dean's t-shirt, before making one small cut through the hem and another small cut through the neck.

Dean sits very still. _Okay, at first, I thought this was a bad idea, but now…just get it off me, Sammy. Get me naked_. When Sam takes the bottom of the shirt in his hands and rips the material up until Dean's chest is bared, Dean sucks in a breath and gets impossibly harder. "Jeez, if anymore blood rushes down to my cock, I'm gonna pass out."

"Hmm…at the risk of tempting fate…" Sam lets the rest of that sentence hang in the air as he climbs off the bed and sits on the edge of _his_ bed. Then, leaning back and bracing his weight on one arm, he keeps eye contact with Dean as he runs his open palm along the underside of his straining erection, before closing his fingers around the head and squeezing. Lifting his hand away, briefly, he brings it to his mouth and licks the precome from his thumb and index finger.

Dean's breathing has escalated to erratic, and he tests the strength of his bonds in frustration. "I can't take much more of this, Sammy."

Smiling at Dean's impatience, Sam turns up the thermostat, bending one leg and resting his foot on the mattress, effectively opening his legs for Dean's hungry eyes. Sam reaches for the lube on the end of the bed, pops the lid, and holds the upturned tube about a foot over his spread legs. Squeezing, the liquid drizzles over his cock and balls, and he smiles at the sensation. When he drops the tube on the bed, he reaches down between his legs, and flattens his hand to slide up over his balls and cock to the tip. Reversing his action, he takes it further by lightly massaging his perineum, and then around his entrance. Sam rubs around his hole, without penetrating the outer muscle.

When Sam moans like a porn star, Dean growls low. "Goddamnit, Sam, that's enough; get over here. Now."

At this point, Sam is eager to comply, and he removes his hand and sits up. Not stalling any longer, Sam moves to Dean's side, bringing the lube to sit back on the bedside table. "Spread your legs, baby," he says softly. When Dean does as instructed, Sam climbs back on the bed and kneels in between Dean's legs, sitting back on his heels. With his hands on the outside of Dean's thighs, he encourages him to bend his legs. Then, running his hands up and down Dean's thighs, he leans in close and speaks slowly and seductively. "Dean, you remember this morning when you asked me if I wanted your ass, and I said 'stupid question'? At Dean's nod, Sam continues. "You remember saying you might let me have it, later?" He waits for Dean's nod, again. "Well, I want it. Now."

Dean smiles. Answering Sam with his body, Dean moves down a little, until he's lying nearly flat on the bed, and lifts his legs to wrap around Sam's waist. "I'm all yours," he says, rocking his hips once in invitation.

"God, Dean," Sam says softly, the strength of his love for Dean thumping him in the chest yet again. With his hands either side of the pillow, he leans in again and takes Dean's lips, kissing him very slowly; seducing his mouth.

Dean leans up into the kiss and follows Sam's lead. _Fuckin' goddamn, this is good_. When Sam draws back, breaking the kiss, Dean rests his head back against the pillow and chuckles.

"What?" Sam asks, the corner of his mouth curving up slightly.

"You just about shut my brain down with that kiss." Unable to touch Sam with his hands tied, Dean takes in Sam's open expression "Now slide yourself inside me, Sammy, and kiss me again."

Sam stills for a moment, looking into Dean's warm, hazel eyes. "I love you so much," he says, letting Dean see the truth in his own eyes. When he thinks he sees the moment when Dean's brain flashes 'chick flick', he prepares to defend himself.

Dean notices the start of Sam's defensive look and shakes his head, knowing what he's thinking. He reassures Sam by lifting his head and planting a kiss against Sam's collarbone. "Sometimes," he says, leaning back again, "chick flick moments are okay. But only sometimes," he adds, with a smile.

"And sometimes, I really like it when you can read my thoughts." Moving down a little, Sam tongues one nipple, and then clamps his lips around the bud, sucking with the slightest of pressure. Still, Dean's hips lift into Sam's, followed immediately by a soft moan. When Dean relaxes back on the mattress, Sam slides a hand between them and strokes them together.

"Sam," Dean breathes, forcing his voice past the hitch of breath, "Please, I want you inside me."

"Keep talking," Sam answers, his hand rubbing around the head of both cocks simultaneously.

"God," he says, shakily, unable to help rocking his hips, wanting more. "Sam, please. I want us both to come while you're inside me. Make love to me."

Those last four words stop Sam and his tease. After a moment, he reads the need in Dean's expression and releases them both. Sam then reaches over to grasp the lube. In mid-stretch, he feels Dean's lips against his nipple and deliberately stops to take advantage of the feeling. Moments later, he moves back in front of Dean, sacrificing one feeling for an even better one. Sitting back, he dribbles lube onto his fingers and is about to let go of the tube again when Dean stops him.

"No prep, Sammy; just slick yourself up and slide inside. I don't wanna wait."

Sam raises an eyebrow at Dean. _You sure?_

Dean nods in understanding.

Sam realises that he's still slicked up enough not to need another application of lube. Moving his now-slippery hand to Dean's shaft, he encloses his hand around him, while his other hand lines himself up against his brother's ass. Just a couple of seconds' tease around his opening and Sam is sliding in. When he breaches Dean's tight walls, he pushes forward until he's most of the way inside. At that point, they both let out the breath they'd been holding, and release moans worthy of nomination in the adult film awards.

"Sam. Oh god, untie me."

Leaning over Dean, with one arm bracing his body weight, he works the knots free.

Dean moves his released hand to run along Sam's ribs, desperate to touch him, as Sam concentrates on Dean's other wrist. Seconds later, Dean moves both hands to cup Sam's ass, and he communicates with hands and hips that he wants Sam to move.

With his arms taking his weight, Sam exhales on a moan as he unclenches his buttocks, and draws back, slowly. Instead of driving back inside, he stills his movements, feeling he should be wearing a big 'S' on his chest for his feat of strength, and focuses on his brother's half-closed eyes. Eyes that widen immediately when Sam stops.

Dean's protest never makes it past his vocal chords as he looks up at Sam.

Looking down at his questioning look, Sam explains. "Dean, this is not going to be some quick, frenzied fuck." In demonstration, Sam pushes himself inside again, slowly, and leans forward to place a kiss over Dean's heart. "I'm going to make love to you. Okay?" The last word wasn't really a question, but Dean still nods his head slightly. "Although," Sam adds, "that doesn't mean I can't take you hard and deep as well."

Dean cries out and pushes his head back against the pillow as Sam demonstrates again. "God…oh Sammy. Show me."

Sam guides them into a leisurely pace, and lovingly feeds off Dean's mouth, savouring the time they're taking with each other. While their lovemaking is always fantastic and satisfying, they don't always take the time to slow it down and let their emotions play along.

Dean slides his hand up and under Sam's hairline to cup the back of his head, happily losing himself in the kiss. At the same time, he hitches his legs a little further up Sam's body, trying to bring him deeper inside.

When Dean moans into his mouth as he moves his legs, Sam reacts by deepening the kiss, and strokes Dean's tongue with his own. Several moments later, Sam releases Dean's lips with a few smaller kisses, and lifts his head to look at Dean. He doesn't say anything, just looks into his brother's eyes, wondering if Dean can read his expression.

It takes all of four seconds for Dean to read Sam and, with a gentle smile and a roll of the eyes, answers his thought. "I love you, too, Tiny."

That makes Sam smile.

A moment later, Dean groans. "Sam, you're killing me, here." When Sam starts to frown, not understanding, Dean explains. "Move, damnit."

It is then that Sam realises that he's stopped moving, and he laughs, dropping his head.

Dean grins and playfully pokes Sam's ribs, eliciting a little squeak from him. "I know I'm distractingly handsome but…"

Dean doesn't get a chance to finish the rest of the sentence because Sam chooses that moment to withdraw himself nearly all the way, before thrusting back inside Dean's welcoming heat.

"Oh baby yeaaah," Dean grinds out, and then groans, long and low, when Sam does it again.

Keeping that rhythm, Sam moves one hand down over Dean's hip and the curve of one cheek to the back of his thigh, which he caresses, even as he manoeuvres Dean's leg higher.

Dean moans again as Sam opens him further. "Oh god, Sammy, deeper."

Sam smiles and drives his length deep inside. "That's all I've got, Dean. My nine inches not enough for you?"

Dean scoffs at Sam's tease. "Your nine inches is perfect for me; I just can't seem to get enough of you. Of this."

"Hmm…wanna try a new position then?"

Dean's interest is piqued. "What did you have in mind?"

"Cowboy up."

Dean pauses for a second as his smile fades slightly. "I dunno, Sam, I'd feel like a girl in that position."

Sam smiles. "I've got news for you, Dean," he says, moving his hand to slide between their bodies, fisting Dean's leaking cock. "You don't feel anything like a girl. You," he continues, moving his hand again to grip Dean's bicep, and pinning his arm to the bed, "feel like my hard, strong, sexy big brother." Sam watches Dean's expression and can see that he isn't convinced. "You don't have to do it if it weirds you out; it was only a suggestion." He shows Dean, with a warm smile, that it really is okay. At the same time, he puts just a hint of challenge in that smile.

Dean sighs. "I wouldn't do this for anyone else, Sam; understand that."

Sam gives him a mock glare. "You'd better _not_ do it for anyone else. Understand _that_."

Dean smiles. "Love it when you get all caveman. Okay."

Sam moves his mouth to Dean's ear, and draws his earlobe between his lips with slight suction as he withdraws from Dean's body.

Immediately missing the intimate connection, Dean sits up, bringing Sam with him. "Switch," he says simply.

Sam lies on the bed, and props a third pillow behind his head. Noticing Dean watching, he clarifies. "All the better to watch you."

Dean doesn't reply, but he does look at Sam intently, before lowering his eyes to roam down the length of Sam's torso. Stopping, naturally, at Sam's hard cock, resting proudly against his stomach, he catches himself in the process of licking his lips. As his fingers itch to wrap around Sam's meat, he remembers the lube, and reaches for it. Squeezing a little onto his fingers, he simply drops the tube over the side of the bed. Taking Sam's shaft in his hand, he grips him firmly and pulls his hand up, letting his hand slide to the head, even as he moves to straddle Sam's thighs. At Sam's loud moan, Dean lets his hand slip up and over the ridge of his cock, while his thumb rubs against his slit.

"Dean…"

"What, Sammy? Tell me," Dean says, his voice husky.

Managing a smile, Sam takes his eyes from Dean's hand and looks at him. "God, I love your voice when you're horny. It makes me harder, if that's possible."

Returning the smile, Dean runs his hand back down Sam's shaft. "I don't think it _is_ possible." Rolling his hips against Sam's thighs, Dean watches Sam's hand as it wraps around his own, before pumping his length, twice. "Tell me what you want, little brother."

Sam fights to catch his breath. "I want to be deep inside you. I want to watch you as you ride me."

Dean smiles. Without another word, he moves up Sam's body until he's kneeling over Sam's hips.

Sam rests one hand on Dean's hip, and holds himself at the base with the other as he watches his brother prepare to take him.

Grasping Sam's erection, under the head, Dean positions himself and slowly, slowly lowers himself down Sam's length, closing his eyes in the process. Leaning his head back, he groans loudly. "Holy fuck, Sam. Did you get bigger in the last two minutes?"

Chuckling softly, Sam drags his hand down Dean's chest and stomach, reaching his intended destination a moment later. "I'll give you time to relax," Sam says, lightly stroking Dean expertly.

When Dean rolls his hips slightly, they groan again as Dean's body takes Sam in the rest of the way.

"God, Dean, you feel so good around me." Sam gives him a little time, just as he promised. At the moment that he feels like his hips are going to start moving on their own, he looks into Dean's eyes while raising an eyebrow. "Now, are you gonna move, or does your little brother have to do all the work?"

Dean can't mistake the tease, and doesn't have a problem taking the bait. Answering him with his body, his hands drop to rest against Sam's broad chest as he lifts himself and sinks down, slowly, releasing his breath with a moan.

As Dean is in the process of repeating the movement, Sam opens his legs and bends his knees a little to bracket Dean's body.

When Sam lightly grips his hips, Dean moves his hands from Sam's chest to grasp his forearms. Now accustomed to the new position, Dean finds a rhythm and starts to pick up the pace. With a small smile, he impales himself again and grinds down, rolling his hips, experimenting. As a result, Dean moans and Sam's eyes close automatically as he gives a throaty groan.

"Fuck, Dean, do that again," Sam says, catching his breath.

Happily obliging, Dean repeats the action, accentuating his movement and, again, it brings a vocal response from both. "Oh my god, Sam. Oooh yeah…you feel so good."

Unable to resist actively participating for another moment, Sam waits 'til Dean lowers himself again before gently thrusting up.

"Fuuck!"

In response, Sam smirks and pulls Dean harder against his groin; further onto his cock.

"OhfuckSam," Dean says in a rush, just as his fingers wrap around his shaft to stroke firmly.

Sam watches Dean's face. His expression of absolute pleasure gives Sam a feeling of possessiveness, and he gets a thrill knowing that it's because of him. Letting his eyes travel down his brother's toned body, Sam focuses on Dean's hand as he fists himself, while maintaining his rhythm, taking Sam fully each time. With his hands still gripping Dean's hips, he makes an observation. "Y'know, I agree with you; watching your brother jacking himself off is really sexy."

Dean opens his eyes and gives him a slow smile. After a few moments, he replies. "You wanna help me, Sammy? Or do you wanna take over?"

"How 'bout you take care of _that_ and I take care of _this_," - rocking his hips to push inside Dean again - "and we'll see if we can come, together."

"Mmmm…sounds like a plan."

Still gripping Dean's hips, Sam starts to thrust a little harder against him, and is rewarded each time with everything from breathy moans to loud groans from his big brother. He watches as Dean rubs his fingers around his cock head, gathering the steadily dripping precome, and uses it to slick his shaft. Seconds later, as another bead of come appears, Sam moves a hand to rub his thumb across the tip and bring it to his mouth, sucking the pad of his thumb lightly.

Dean moans in response and tightens his grip around his cock. "Oh god, Sam," he breathes, pulling his hand up the length of his shaft and rolling his hips.

"You wanna come for me, Dean?"

"Oh yeah. C'mon, Sammy, fuck me. Make me feel you."

"Lift up a little." When Dean kneels up just enough to keep Sam inside him, Sam places his hand back on Dean's hip. "That's enough." Then, with his feet planted on the bed, he thrusts his hips clean off the bed and bottoms out, hard, inside Dean's ass.

Dean cries out and stills his movements for a moment at the intense feeling. "Fuck, Sam. Fuck…yeah! Oh god."

Sam withdraws slowly, then drives himself back inside, creating a punishing rhythm. Dean's desperate groans and dirty talk do nothing but spur Sam on further; harder. Watching Dean work his cock faster is just about his undoing, and he moves to grasp the ridge of Dean's head. "Come hard for me, Dean," he says, his fingers rubbing up and down the sensitive nerves at the ridge of his cock and applying just the right amount of pressure.

"Uhhhh…I'm almost there, Sam," Dean says, his eyes half closed at the sensation. "Come with me, baby; come inside me." Moments later, as Sam continues to pound into him, Dean lets loose with a low growl and pumps his shaft as he shoots his seed onto his hand and Sam's stomach.

Feeling Dean's muscles grip around him as his orgasm takes control, Sam rocks his hips twice more, and pulls Dean firmly down onto his cock, burying himself as he fills Dean with his come. "God, Dean." Sam's sure he wants to say more than that but his brain has shut down due to over-stimulation, so full sentences will have to wait. Finally, his body goes limp and his eyes remain closed; that is, until he feels himself withdrawing from Dean's body, followed immediately by Dean's lips on his and their torsos flush against each other.

Dean looks down at him, no more than three inches away from his brother's boneless-and-happy expression, and gives him back a similar look. "That was crazy hot, little brother."

"I'll second that," Sam responds, smiling, and slides his hands up Dean's flanks. One hand stops its journey, splayed against the middle of his back; the other hand cups the back of Dean's head and brings him closer.

Dean takes the hint and kisses him deeply, again taking their time. Pulling back a minute later, Dean gives Sam a smirk. "Now I know why chicks like that position. Next time _you're _on top, little brother."

Sam laughs. "We might be able to arrange something."

Dean lifts himself and moves to lie on his back, pulling Sam closer.

Turning onto his side, and resting against his elbow, Sam isn't ready to stop touching Dean just yet, and proves it by leaning over and planting a kiss to his neck, just above his collar bone. "You know," Sam says, and kisses Dean again, a little higher up, "I can honestly say that I've never had this much fun losing a game of pool."

Dean chuckles and wraps his arm around Sam, encouraging more kisses.

The. End.


End file.
